Bird Park church

                                                            Seven Island Bird Park 

The longest walk I did in this section of time was a 4 mile hike in the 7 islands birding park near Knoxville. This is one of my favorite places, mostly because it’s easy to get to, as well as seeming wild and remote. Visitors park in a gravel parking area after driving along narrow winding country roads. First we walk past landscape and feeders designed to attract the songbirds. Even with bird feeders, the idea is that nature, native bushes and plants make better feeders as well as provide protection for the birds.  We can walk through a barn decorated with photos of the birds we are likely to see. After the barn there is a tiny play area for children. Once we pass that area we have choices. One steep trail climbs the ridge to the right. An ADA paved trail goes straight ahead, and another very steep trail crosses a mostly unused road to wind through the trees. I have walked most of these trails, and enjoyed every one. Going straight on the paved path seems to be the most popular. It is flat but passes by expansive fields where deer graze and many birds and butterflies find shelter and food. The trail leads to the French Broad River and a bridge crosses the river. On the bridge we can see the seven islands of the park, small sections of land in the middle of the river. The views are excellent. 

This last visit I chose to walk to the right, uphill to the top of the ridge overlooking the entire park. Some sections are fairly steep, I had tried to push a stroller up it once before and had to give up. This time I was alone. My family was in church, and I was out walking in my church.  My spirit soared, my heart was full, and I walked, listening to bird song and breezes rustling in the wildflowers and grasses. I followed the trail along the ridge, and back down through woods to the meadow below. I didn’t cross the bridge, but followed a grassy path beside the river, listening to red wing blackbirds, and even the bob white pair calling across the grasses. I had not heard bob whites since my childhood, and it made me very happy to hear them again. This was a bird that used to be very common, but almost disappeared with the loss of his habitat. They are making a come back. Maybe one day I will have the experience from my childhood, of walking past a bush and hearing the almost gunshot sounds of the birds flying away.  Walking along the river was very nice, and I saw two people kayaking, just floating along with the current. It was one of those perfect, almost hot but not oppressive days. I finished my walk in time to meet my family at a restaurant.

 

When I walk outside, my thoughts go everywhere. Sometimes I try to control them, but mostly I let them go. Probably I need to think along these lines, and work out whatever things are bothering me. Once that is done, I tend to begin planning and dreaming of new ideas, crafts or writing projects that interest me. My optimism is strongest when I am out walking. Often I compose entire novels, plan future art lessons and future travels. These dreams may not come true, but I certainly feel better, positive and inspired after these flights of fantasy. I love watching birds, but I don’t have to identify them or keep lists, I just like to see and hear them. I passed a guy out birdwatching, and we started talking. He told me  I need to invest in good binoculars, and I agreed. Maybe one day. Right now I just like knowing the variety of birds that are around. I use an app on my phone to identify the songs of the birds. When I get home I chose one or two of them to practice drawing, and to learn more about. 

There was a time in my life where I spent every single Sunday morning and evening in church, closed off from nature. I wanted to “worship the Creator, not the Creation.” I think I wrote a couple of blogs on that very idea. Now, I would rather be outside, feeling the fresh air and moving in and among “the Creation.” I don’t know if I worship anything anymore. I feel awe for the beauty and diversity of nature, and I feel a desire to protect and to understand that nature. If there is a god that created this nature, then I am very thankful. I can’t imagine a god that designed butterfly wings and ecosystems getting upset that I chose to find joy in that creation instead of joy in singing praises and hoping loved ones are in his good graces. I can’t balance the complexity of nature with the judgement of a loving, or a wrathful god. But I do understand that humans have tried to wipe out entire species of critters, animal and plant, and that we have a lot to do to undo that damage. I do understand that we are not the only species on earth that can communicate, love, and care for others, and that we depend on the interwoven complexity of this life. 

I have walked 653 miles total, and I’m still in VA.  I’m happy to have passed the 600 mile mark, and my goal for the rest of this year is to pick up the pace and try to reach the end by the end of this year. We will see.

Not a goblin, love nature and murder on the AT

 

I watch a youtube series by a guy reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time, and who has now moved to The Hobbit. He is interesting and thoughtful. He reminds me why I love those books and why I love reading in general. His channel is called First Timers. Today he talked about a line in The Hobbit, a children’s book, explaining the difference between goblins and orcs and other creatures. The book says, “ They make no beautiful things, but they make many clever ones.”

I like this. The goblins have tools and the ability to make things. They are not mindless monsters. They can make tunnels to find gold, they can make weapons and traps.  But they make no art, no music, no funny stories. They are missing a core ingredient that determines humankind as apart from “other.”  We are creators. We create, whether it is in painting, writing, cooking, gardening, making up stories and songs for children, thinking of better ways to explain some school lesson, and on and on. We are willing to strive and work to create something just for the joy of creating, for the beauty of the thing. We are able to walk in nature, and stop to enjoy a birdsong. We are able to become lost in the beauty of the shadows flickering through the leaves of a tree. We contemplate a sunrise, or the peaceful scene of a hayfield. We have children, and we help them to discover this aspect of humanity, or, as is often the case, the children remind us and help us to remember this aspect of humanity. Goblins cannot do this. We need to remember we are not the goblins, we are the humans. We will survive because we love, we sacrifice, and we create. Artificial Intelligence is a goblin. It can create, but only as a clever thing, stealing and copying from the humans as it was designed to do. AI cannot enjoy the creation, cannot reflect on sunrises or sunsets, and cannot truly create a new thing. It creates on the backs of real artists and writers. It is a goblin, and we are humans. AI is clever, but we are the ones who make beautiful things. 

I have been facing some kind of existential dread over AI, as well as over so much of what is going on in the world right now. After watching the First Timers video I began thinking about creation and beauty, and I feel better. It rained today, and I stood on my porch watching the water as it splashed on the driveway, and as it dripped on the flowers and leaves. I can see and enjoy the loveliness of the world I live in. I picked a pepper from the garden for my salad. The vegetable was wet from the rain, and when I cut and tasted it, the flavor was sharp and fresh. I listened to music today, and read a book. I am a human. I can enjoy beauty, and to a degree I can create beauty. I talked to my grandkids over the computer today. They laughed and smiled and were mischievous. They are humans. We will not be replaced. We can see and create beauty, we find purposes to life that cannot be understood or copied by machines, or by goblins. 

I have walked some since the last post. When I walk I think about these kind of things, and so for me walking is a kind of meditation, a chance to think and cheer up and maybe even have hope. Walking is a kind of therapy, and who doesn’t need therapy in this climate. While bombs are falling, people are being mistreated in so many ways, and AI is threatening to take our jobs, destroy the environment, and ruin education, I begin to fear the goblins. These goblins may come in authoritarian costumes, or in computers that are wiling to think for you. Either way, we need to remember, we are not goblins We are the humans. We create. We see beauty We love our children and families. We need to love our neighbors, even those that look different than us. We need to pursue peace and goodness, and to create beauty. Do not be a goblin!

start 4/25 - 5/26

28.62 total for complete 625

I am between Wapiti shelter and Doc’s Knob shelter in VA. Wapiti shelter is the site of a double murder on the AT. A local man shot two hikers, a woman and a man, and fled with their truck and some money. He was found in SC, and sentenced to 15 years for both murders. Once released he settled down for a time, then ended up shooting 2 men, also on the AT. These men survived, and the killer was injured fleeing from the police.  He died from the injuries. . According to what I have read a couple of people die every year on the AT, mostly from hypothermia or weather incidents. There have been a few murders, but not many considering the numbers of people who are out hiking on the trails every day. I’m sad to think of the victims, out enjoying nature and trusting their fellow outdoorsmen, only to have their lives ended in such a way. 

what you see when you don't see screens

 

I put my phone away today. I decided I was using the mobile device too often for too many things, and so I put it in time out. I sat with my baby grandson outside on the front porch, and simply held him and watched the world. He looked so cute, I wanted to take a picture, but the phone is my camera. I saw some interesting bird activity and thought about texting my dad, but my phone is my only way to text. The baby fell asleep, and I wanted to scan the news and my social media, but the phone was inside, in time out, and I was outside, without my artificial entertainment. I looked out into the yards of my neighbors. Across the street is a house that has a pet pig in the back yard. I assume he is a pet, and not pre bacon, because he is smaller, and has been there over a year. Then I noticed something interesting behind the pig pen. Crows were diving onto the ground, flying up and diving again. This section of grass is the land between the neighbor’s house and a church, up on a hill. As I watched a small furry shape flew towards the crows, and they lifted up and flew to the neighbor’s fence. The shape flew around the yard and returned to sit out of my sight by the fence. What kind of creature was chasing big black crows around?  Two of the crows returned to the grass, and the fuzzy shape flew out at them again, running wide circles, sweeping the birds until they flew into a tree. I strained my eyes, and saw the fuzzy shape was a rabbit. The crows returned, two and three at a time, and no matter how many, the rabbit chased them up and away. Then I noticed a tiny shape, and realized the rabbit was protecting a kit. At one point a crow landed on the fence with something in his mouth, but when the rabbit charged the fence the bird flew up, dropped the tiny thing, and flew away. I watched entranced while the baby fell asleep in my arms. My heart ached for the fierce rabbit, beset by every side, outnumbered, she continued to chase, flying across the yard as bird after bird harassed her. At one point I realized the birds seemed to be feeding on something, but the rabbit would chase them off, over and over.  Eventually I took the baby inside, and laid him down. I fixed my breakfast and returned to watch. The birds were gone, and the rabbit as well. I just hope she had more kits, I hoped she was in her burrow snuggled up with them.  Nature is brutal. The birds have to eat. The birds have to feed young. The rabbit needs to eat, and feed her young. If we interfere we are choosing who survives and who doesn’t. Do we have the wisdom to do that? 

All this entertainment and thoughts in my head, because I put my phone down. Yesterday I had noticed that whenever I had the phone out, my grand baby, all he wanted was the phone. Once he got ahold of hit his eyes lit up, and he joyfully tried to put it in his mouth. When I took it away he cried. When I hid it, he cried. This was the reason I put the phone in time out. Later but still morning, baby and I sat in the backyard. Birds flew overhead. Two mocking birds landed nearby, sang and flew off. A male cardinal flew right over my head, the sunlight shining through his spread wings.  His mate followed. In the brambles beside the fence I noticed movement. Mostly I saw the leaves move, then grass move. Over time I was able to see a tiny brown bird head bopping up and down, mostly concealed, as the small bird worked through the grass.  While watching an adult brown thrasher flew over, landed nearby and kept watch. The mockingbird flew into the brambles and two white butterflies scattered, landing on clover. Then everyone was gone. Just like that. A hawk soared overhead, lazily circled and moved on. Sitting outside has been the best entertainment I could ever have. Baby wants to stand up, and he sets his feet on me, legs, tummy, whatever he finds. He struggles to stand, and I hold him as he wobbly surveys his new domain.  Baby birds, baby rabbits, baby humans, they all strive to grow, eat greedily, and learn by play.  I am pretty sure my morning entertainment would not be as full if my daughter’s yard was one of those perfect groomed lawns. Without brambles where would be baby birds hide? Without berries what would they eat? Without taller grass, and deep variety of plants growing in the yard, so much of the wildlife would be gone. My three year old grandson loves to eat wild garlic. We munch on dandelion leaves and flowers. So do the rabbits. Earthworms are easily discovered when rocks are moved, and what joy these little creatures bring to the kids. Lightning bugs will flourish because their grubs can grow in taller grass and sedges. Pollinators are happy here, and so are the many birds. Sometimes perfection isn’t what it seems. 

Without my phone I can’t double check the news every half hour. I relax, and I just help the baby discover his world, and watch the creatures nearby discover theirs. 

Last week baby and I drove to a local park and walked the pathways, getting slightly lost and having a great time. My biggest struggle with walking right now is having to pack a stroller, bottles, diapers, water and so on, because I am tired of walking in the neighborhood. The other problem is keeping him out of too much direct sunshine.  

For the AT I am still in Virginia, and will be for quite a while. I would be near the town of Bland VA, which I always thought was a funny name. I haven’t hiked there, but one Youtube channel had the title, Bland VA the most boring part of the AT. I guess the name is well chosen.

This Land was made for You and Me

 

This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Highlands, this land was made for you and me.  

This song has been in my head lately. I sing it to the baby to help him fall asleep, it runs through my head as I go for walks.  It is a beautiful, simple song. The words remind us how diverse and lovely the land of the United States is; highlands, lowlands, ribbons of highways and the stars above me. This land is made for you and me. I love exploring my country. The beaches of North and South Carolina are wonderful to walk on, with the low waves dancing at my feet. The Piedmont of North Carolina is so green and lush, with farms of soybeans and corn. The Smoky Mountains with their high peaks and dark greens, blues and purples of the mountains, and the dark stands of pine, with the clouds and mist and blue skies, these mountains make my heart soar. The middle of the country is wide flat lands under a deep sky,  and then coming to rich brown and golden and red landscapes of the west. We have such diversity of geography, from the Rocky Mountains to the rainy North West, to the wild rocky landscape of Arizona and Nevada. Every spot is interesting and stunning in it’s own way. From steamy Florida to the chilly New England coast, I want to see it all. 

I love my country.  I also know that right now I am not happy with the direction my country is going. We are in wars with other countries, we are at war with people here at home, and we are at war with our Natural Spaces. it makes me very sad. As a citizen of my country, I have both love for it, and also anger, I want my country to do good. I want my country to behave in a way that makes me proud. We have overcome so many bad choices over the years, even if our growth pains have been difficult. The same country that imported slaves also eventually freed them, then oppressed their ancestors. My countrymen marched for equality, voted to make the opportunities available for all. I love my country, but part of that love is being willing to tell it when it is wrong. When a parent loves a child, they have to direct the child, sometimes correct the child. This is love. I love my country, but one of the ways I can show that is by protesting when I think my country is going the wrong way. I think we all can agree slavery was going the wrong way. I think we can all agree the Civil Rights protestors were doing so out of a desire to see our country do better for all the citizens. When a person protests, this is not “hating our country” but protesting against something that feels wrong to the protestor. We are a nation “of the people, for the people,” and when “the people” let their opinions be known this is a type of patriotism. Americans are not to be loyal to a certain individual, or even a party, but to the “Dream that is America,” the idea that makes us who we are. 

The Woody Guthrie song stuck in my head, “This Land is your land,” this is a song of love, and of protest. The two things can be true at the same time. He loved his country and all it’s potential, he also saw the suffering of the Great Depression. Deep down, the problems our country faces and have faced are ones of greed. 

These many thoughts were swirling in my head while I walked over the weekend. We went camping for Easter, my favorite way to enjoy the holiday, and we enjoyed some short child friendly walks in the woods. While climbing up towards a cave on the mountainside, I was hearing the song in my head, and started thinking about the concept of protest as patriotism. If we are part of a country “for the people, by the people,” and we never participate, never show our point of view, then how are we “the people.” The senators, congressmen, and even the president are working in our name. The only way to work in our name is for them to hear, and hear often, what our wishes are. Like Woody Guthrie, I love my country, but I hate the greed that makes so many people suffer. Nature just is, it is not a commodity to exploit. We can enjoy being in nature, we can enjoy the healing moments sitting under a tree, foraging for mushrooms or wild apples, sticking our feet in a fast moving stream, fishing and hunting where allowed, and walking, strolling, sauntering as one outdoor writer called it. None of these things cost money, nor should they. Watching a bald eagle fly in the sky or sitting still as a butterfly lands on a flower nearby, these are the joys of nature. No one should have to pay to enjoy these things. Greed will destroy our country if we let it. Power will destroy our country if we let it. Love, peace, joy, these things can save us. If we protest, we should do it in love. To become a united country again, we need to focus on love, on joy, on the simple things. We need to understand our neighbors may not see the world the same way, and may not understand things in the same manner, but they are our neighbors, our brothers, even our fellow journeyers in our nature, our countryside. Lets all work together to bring love and joy into our lives again. 

I wandered a lot in this post, from nature, to protest, to patriotism, to love and joy and brotherhood. This all connects in some way, and the connection is what I am seeking. Maybe I will understand what I want to say, and figure out how to express it before this imaginary travel is over. 

I have hiked 24.3 miles for a total of 581. this puts me near the Jenkins Shelter in Virginia. Slowly I am making my way north, step by step. I may not be moving fast, and I may not really be on the AT, but I am having a great time pretending, and still am enjoying the benefits of daily outdoor walking. 

Seven Island Birding Park, again. Walking with baby

                                                     Walking with my stroller buddy

It has been a month since I wrote last, and two months since I measured and totaled my miles. One of the reasons I decided to measure my steps on the AT, besides wishing I could actually be on that trail, was to encourage me to walk more. Somehow it has not worked these last months. Between babysitting, sickness and cold weather, I have sat around. The baby and I enjoyed sitting outside on a blanket, having an “outside day,” which is always enjoyable. Also I push the stroller through the neighborhood, and we enjoy those short walks. One day I decided to take the baby to my favorite place, Seven Island Birding Park. It was mid February, a rare beautiful sunny day. I packed a lunch, a baby bottle, and off we went. The parking lot is deep loose gravel, very hard to push a heavy stroller through, but we made it. Baby and I watched song birds fight over the feeders, the first thing you see on this trail. The park has 9 miles of trails, with about 3 miles ADA rated. Baby and I walked along the nice paved trail and looked around, enjoying the scenery. Even though it was February, the sun was bright and hot. I took off my flannel shirt and tried to drape it across the stroller top to keep the sun out of his eyes. It was very bright. We walked all the way to the bridge over the French Broad River. I eventually figured out how to tie the sleeve of my shirt onto the handle, and wrap the rest of it in a way that it didn’t fall off, but as we turned left and right I had to retie everything. I decided to cross the bridge and walk on a regular trail, get into the trees and find a nice place to eat my lunch. In the trees I pushed over roots and bumps, struggling with the stroller to find a good spot. The hoped for shade wasn’t there. Silly me, there are no leaves on the trees yet. We found a bench, I turned the stroller out of the shade and enjoyed my lunch. It was wonderful. I watched the sky, heard geese and various song birds. Baby seemed happy. 

This is what I mean when I say I want to eat out. Baby is giving me side eye, he wants food too.

Since there wasn’t really any shade I decided to walk on to find a better place to give him his bottle. We bounced back to the ADA paved trail, and I struggled again with keeping the bright sun out of his eyes. I decided to risk another regular trail, hoping for a better spot to maybe just sit and enjoy, and we bounced again. This trail followed the river, and was grassy, so easier to push, but still no shade. I was beginning to worry about giving a 5 month old baby a sunburn. One flannel shirt does not make an easy sunscreen. A little spider dropped onto the top of the stroller and I reached to flick it off. It fell into the seat with the baby, by his leg. I reached in with my hand, and squish, my fingers were covered by, well, a diaper blow out. Now I had to find a shady like place to change his diaper. We pushed into the trees some, and I realized I didn’t have anything to lay him on. I used the flannel shirt. I got him changed, but ran out of wipes before I could clean my hands well. I wiped them on grass.  Luckily he was smiling and enjoying the afternoon. We meandered back towards the parking lot, where I struggled to push the stroller through the heavy gravel again. Exhausted we drove home. I fed him, and we both rested. But, you know what, it was a fun day, and he didn’t get sunburned. I might do it again.

French Broad River at Birding Park

The monks finished their walk, and I believe they inspired half our country to focus on mindfulness, breathing, and peace. So many people met them at all of their stops, so many posted and reposted their talks. The question is, will we continue to think about these things. The main monk who organized the walk was interviewed after he returned to his monastery. He said, “If you have followed us, read every post, and yet don’t continue breathing and practicing peace, our journey has failed.” Everything is that way. We are not supposed to be consumers of knowledge, we must be practitioners of knowledge.  We must always be transformed by what we learn, givers and sharers of the good things we learn. May today be my peaceful day.

I walked 35 miles since the last blog, and am on mile 557 on the AT. This puts me one mile from Ceres VA, a tiny town in Bland County. Pictures look like rolling green hills, and not much else. I would probably like it. Get outside and enjoy the day, and let today be your peaceful day.

Three Caves and Safety in Woods by Shelley Hopkins

                                            Three Caves and Safety in Woods

I

 have barely walked the last couple of weeks. Six miles in two weeks makes me think I have been living on a reclining chair. It has snowed, freezing winds have howled and I also have been sick. One day I took my dog out in 20 degree temperature with heavy wind, the wind chill was said to be below zero. When the wind was still I enjoyed the walk, wrapped in a warm coat, scarf, gloves and hat. But when the wind began the cold penetrated every gap, every tiny section of skin and I froze. My eye sockets hurt, my ears hurt, my nose and my gloved fingers hurt. The walk went from pleasant to horrible every time the wind blew. The sound of the leash vibrating was louder than the wind itself. I cut short my walk and headed straight to the house.  One day as I prepared to return to my daycare duties in Tennessee, the snow melting and school reopening, I stopped at a local hike. I had enjoyed hiking on the way to my daughters the week before, so I decided to do that again, but this time in my town. I stopped at a place called Three Caves, and I walked a loop that first circled the caves then followed a trail away from them. These three caves look manmade to me, and later when I researched them I found out they were a product of Limestone mining. Many of Huntsville’s streets were created with limestone from this mine. After many years the mine closed down and the land was donated to the Huntsville Land Trust. For a time the land trust offered tours of the 6 acre cave, but over time the roof was found to be unstable. There is a road out to the cave entrance with a large gate. I have lived here almost 10 years now, and I didn’t know concerts were held during the summers in front of the cave entrances. Now I have a plan for this summer. 

 I walked for an hour, following the trails to make an easy loop, then headed back to my car. During the entire walk I had not seen a single person, but I could hear traffic since these trails and caves are right at the edge of the old town. Just as I reached the view of the caves I met another hiker. A woman, alone like me. We chatted a bit. It was going to rain soon, and she had her umbrella. She leaned towards me and asked, “Woman to woman, how safe are these trails.”  I had to think about my answer. I have never had an unsafe feeling, or unsafe moment when hiking. I imagine I am lucky in that. I have walked by myself since I moved out of my house, sometimes with a dog and sometimes not. When we lived near Chapel Hill, NC I walked often in Duke Forest, and I was told that was dangerous. I debated then about not hiking there, but decided I would rather be in danger than not leave the house. I know that is a glib answer, and of course I was young then, but it is also the truth. I love the outdoors, I need the outdoors. If I can’t get out and walk among trees, away from people, I might as well be in prison. Why should I live in prison just because there are some bad people out there. So, I hike anyway. I try to be smart about it, stay alert, let others know where I am and pay attention to weather, news and such, but I will always hike.  If something happens to me someday, I hope my loved ones will know I chose to be out there, and wanted and needed to be out there. I told her, “I have never had a bad encounter from other people, but I know it could happen. I think in general it is safe, but you know….”  She nodded, she did know. We smiled and at that moment a young man walked by, the second person I had seen all day. He had on a hoodie, carried a water bottle, and walked past us without looking at us. We said hi, and he just nodded. I wondered if he was thinking about how we might fear him, and trying to just move on and enjoy his day. Why do things have to be so hard?  I hope he and she enjoyed their hikes. Nature heals, but some healings take time. The great outdoors are for everyone, black, white, male, female, anyone that is willing to get out and walk, and protect and care for the land. 

I walked so few miles I am not even going to see where I am on the AT. Maybe next post I will have moved further along. Enjoy the outdoors and do your part to make everyone feel like they belong. 

Winter walk and searching for peace

                                                               Lovely winter walk

I am sitting inside watching sleet fall, dreaming of warmer days and time outdoors. Last weekend I hiked in a new place near Chattanooga TN, and I remembered how much I enjoy walking in the winter. The trail I walked on was deep in a Wildlife Management Area on the top of a tall ridge. I drove up curving switchbacks, climbing up and up, then turned down roads, each smaller than the next, until I turned down a dirt road. I followed the dirt road for some time, and finally found a parking area with a few cars and picnic tables; this was the trail head. I bundled up in my winter coat, with a heavy sweater underneath, slipped on my daypack and looked for a map. Finally I walked out into the woods, my spirits soaring. Almost all of my walks lately have been around neighborhoods or city parks. It felt good to walk on a dirt path, watching for tree roots and exposed rocks. The trail was steep and curvy, and sheltered in woods. The trees had no leaves, so I could see out, blue sky and a distant river. I came to a large rock with a crack down the middle, the trail slipped between the rock sides. I walked down with both hands out holding onto the rock.  The trail meandered to the side of the mountain ridge, and in front of me, between the trees, I could see a wide curve of the Tennessee river, with a few houses and buildings on the shore. It was cold, but in a nice fresh way, and walking warmed me up. The hike was a short but wonderful stop on the way to another location, and walking made me feel better for the rest of the drive. I never thought about putting a hike in the middle of a drive before. It did slow the trip down. What normally takes 4 hours took all day, but part of that all day was walking in woods so I call that a win. 

The monks are still walking for peace, and our country finds that peace still eludes us. Violence against protesters, violence against immigrants, and the monks walk on. Everywhere the monks walk people line the streets, follow along, hand out flowers and gifts, and simply wave with hope. We as a people want peace, we want love and unity. Why as a country can we not achieve this goal. Maybe too many people are dreaming of power, dreaming of control. Peace doesn’t come from power or control. Peace comes from within. It comes from a choice, and search and a journey within our soul. I wish I knew more, understood more, and could find and share that peace with others. If my life can reflect a bit of peace, and reflect it off me, like the monks but in my very small way, and if each one of us can do the same, then I think peace will show itself. Walking is a one step at a time journey, and finding and sharing peace is the same. It isn’t easy. While I am inside watching the sleet and rain, the monks are walking, continuing the journey. As my daughter tells her little boy, sometimes things are hard, and that is ok. It can be good to do hard things.  Keep walking, keep searching for peace.

I have walked 18.58 miles these weeks, and now am on mile 522 of the AT.  This puts me at  Troutdale, Virginia. I searched online and found a hikers hostel and pictures of rolling hills and trees.  I think this section of the AT is not as steep and difficult as the NC and the TN sections.